So, Why This Genre?
I write in a variety of genres—horror, supernatural, military fiction, erotica, erotic romance, science fiction, fantasy, and even a bit of dabbling in Classical Greece and Rome, and the Old West.
Now, as for horror or supernatural, that is a little difficult to explain. Deep down inside maybe we all like to be scared once in a while. Perhaps it is in our genes, a left-over from the prehistoric when our ancestors huddled around campfires telling stories to pass the time. And keep the surrounding predators at bay. The prehistoric was definitely a time when the world and its working was filled with mystery and spirits.
That time is gone now except for some “uncivilized” areas of the world. Science has seen to that.
But still, science doesn’t know everything.
That being said, I love a good horror story or horror movie, or supernatural story or movie. Forget all of the slasher and torture and kill stories and movies. If I want to read or see that I will look at the news.
Nope, good old horror or supernatural entertainment for me. I still enjoy a chill or a fright from time to time. Especially at night or when there is a full moon.
Then too, true horror or supernatural can appear even in broad daylight. That might be the scariest of all. In our stereotypical, label-based world, such things are supposed to happen in darkness. Not in broad daylight. But what if you encounter a handsomely dressed man or enticingly dressed woman in broad daylight? What if you are drawn to them? And then, alone with such a person in broad daylight a sudden chill ripples through you? And you realize, you feel, that there is something “wrong” with the person in front of you? You realize there is a darkness within them that no one but you can sense. Your gut is screaming “run” and you want to—but where? It is bright and sunny out. Every move you make can be seen, anticipated, and reacted to.
And worse, the darkness realizes that you can see it for what it truly is.
Yes, it is bright and sunny out and something dark stands before you, close to you, and is beckoning you to join it. Or be consumed by it if you refuse.
Science be damned—faced by a real darkness in front of you, what then?
“Dancing in Moonlight”
Ed. Stephen Morgan. Musa Publishing, May 2012.
While on much-needed R&R leave from
Corporal Ronnie Edson enjoyed a night with a beautiful woman. He thought that
would be the end of it, but on the flight back to Iraq he sees an impossible sight:
the woman dancing on the wing of the plane. She’s come for him, and she won’t
leave without him. Iraq
A yellowish glow flared in the living darkness like a newborn sun; the hiss and sputtering of the flickering glow sounded like the background static of the prehistoric universe.
The soft footsteps of an enraptured, puzzled voyeur emerged from a darkness that pulsed with hidden life, desires, needs, and temptations.
A nude woman sat on a silk-cushioned bench in front of a large, dark vanity table and ignored the silent voyeur. Her long blonde hair with purplish highlights fell to the small of her back. She looked into the central mirror and a pair of movable side mirrors that were shaped like Gothic cathedral windows. By each side mirror, a candelabra with a trio of tall scented candles bathed her pale flesh in their soft glow.
She felt his eyes studying her as she applied, with slow measured strokes, black and red eye shadow to her upper eyelids, and under her eyes; at the outer corner of her eyes the eye shadow narrowed to a point, like Minoan or Egyptian eye decoration on wall paintings. Her blue, almond shaped eyes were brighter than a cloudless sky at high noon. Black eyeliner highlighted the brightness of her eyes while mascara deepened the blackness of her eyelashes.
Her deep blue eyes blinked once as she looked into the Gothic mirrors and caught a glimpse of the silent man. She listened to the murmuring shadows in the mirrors, while an even deeper, sensual darkness, like a black satin ribbon, twisted around the unsuspecting man and flowed through him.
A hint of a smile came to her face as she shifted on the silk cushion and lazily ran a red fingernail along a length of her dark thigh high stockings. She sensed his growing lust for her. Her hand trailed up her hip to a garter belt decorated with ruffled silk, then across a topless black and red velvet and lace corset. Her seductive smile deepened as she peered into the Gothic mirror at the man, now shrouded within the ghostly, satiny ribbon.
She applied dark lip liner to her full lips, followed by blood red lipstick. The young woman paused and chose a brush that sparkled in the candlelight. She carefully applied gold glitter to her eyebrows...
His writings have appeared as stand-alone stories and in anthologies from Dark Opus Press, Edge Science Fiction & Fantasy, Melange Books, Musa Publishing, MuseItUp Publishing, Ravenous Romance, and as stand-alone stories in Horror Bound Magazine, The Harrow, and River Walk Journal, among others.
In May 2014 he graduated from the College of Southern Nevada with an Associate of Applied Science Degree in Photography – Commercial Photography Emphasis. A future goal is to study for a degree in archaeology—hopefully to someday work in and photograph underwater archaeology (and also learning to paint).
After 13 years of brown desert in the Southwest and overseas, he misses the Rocky Mountains, yellow aspens in the fall, running rivers, and a warm fireplace during snowy winters.
As of April 2014, after being in a 2-year Veterans Administration program for Homeless Veterans, Hampton is officially no longer a homeless Iraq War veteran, though he is still struggling to get back on his feet.
Hampton can be found at: